Before They Were Wing Mates
by T. D. Linger
Summary: A short one-shot story of Jane's early encounters with Don. Love and courage blossom in Neuroi-infested skies.


I never intended to become a flight witch. I really never did. But after that aptitude test, no matter how many doubts my parents raised, I couldn't stop listening to that voice in my heart: "People are driven to where they're needed."

—

As my Striker Unit sputtered smoke, and my eyes frantically scanned the skies, I began to wish I'd listened to my parents instead.

—

It was meant to be a routine patrol mission. My wing mate had chuckled at my nervous adherence to the book. All my effort, however, couldn't keep us from flying right into a Neuroi trap. Not only were we caught far from the other pair, I lost my wing mate in the confusion. Along with all of my ammunition. And nearly all my composure.

—

Motion in the corner of my eye snapped me out of my thoughts. It was an object approaching on my tail, hugging the cover of the clouds. I tensed in apprehension. No, it didn't look like a Neuroi. But it cut such an ominously straight path...

"...F/L Gentile!"

I called out as it swung into my left view. It was a witch...! A fellow witch, giving a casual salute as if nothing was amiss.

"Jane, isn't it?"

"...Y...yes!"

Her attitude was unmistakable. It was Dominica Gentile, a witch from the 336th who'd served longer than me. When I first met her, I thought she'd be hard to get along with. But at this time, in this place, I couldn't have possibly been happier to see her.

"Goodson lost you?"

"No, she's not at fault!...I got separated, and..."

As I struggled to find the words, she calmly looked me over.

"You're out of ammo, huh?"

"How did you know?"

"Since you're hugging your rifle like that."

I blushed, and held it more properly. Not like it mattered now, of course. Gentile nodded, seeming to have finished her inspection.

"Don't worry. I'm here now. I'll escort you back."

For a second, Gentile's expression changed to something unreadable. Then it returned to her usual disinterested expression...also unreadable.

"T...Th...Thank..."

At that moment, I nearly broke down and hugged her. It wasn't my own composure that stopped me, though. It was Gentile herself, who dove so close to me our cheeks were touching.

"F/L Gentile..."

"Rendezvous point is due east, that way." She held my hand, and guided it to point towards the horizon. "About 20 miles. Garrison and Goodson will be there."

"Veronica Garrison? Did you get separated from your wing mate too, F/L Gentile?"

"Hmmm, I suppose you could say that."

At first, my mind raced as to why anything had to be supposed. But those thoughts were shook aside as I realized how dangerous the situation still was. It was dangerous for me. And now it was also dangerous for her as well...

"F/L Gentile, even if your ammunition's held out...against the number of Neuroi that ambushed us, there's-"

"Don't worry about that. Like I said, I'll escort your back."

She kept shooting down my concerns with the same words. As we made cautious progress to the rendezvous point, I felt like I had to fill this nervous void with something besides the racing wind. I began to ask about silly, unimportant things.

"So...why did you join the service, Gentile?"

"Pay's good."

I got used to her brunt, short answers quickly.

"Oh, I see."

"Old folks are poor. They need me here."

She was taking point, and I couldn't see her face. But I still knew she was wearing the same disinterested expression. This girl...she might have seemed difficult to get along with, but she had a truly earnest heart. After all, at the time I needed her most, she put herself in danger to...

My thoughts were interrupted as she pulled me a bit closer, to steady my sputtering engine. Blushing a little, I said under my breath:

"People are driven to where they're needed."

She turned and smiled at me. I realized then...that was the first time I'd seen her smile. And I also realized, pulled in so close, that her heart was actually beating a bit fast in fear too...

—

"Don!" A witch, hailing us loudly, banked out of the concealing clouds.

F/L Gentile's smile...or Don's, I should say...couldn't quite be called a smile now. "Smirk" would be more accurate.

"Doooo~n! Really now! I told you were being reckless!" The hailing witch was...Don's wing mate, Veronica Garrison. Her face looked angry, but at the same time very happy.

Gentile simply nodded, acknowledging that yes, she had indeed been told that.

"Our Don here was fighting in a madly reckless way...even though you've been warned! You're supposed to stick to my side, not fly off like a kid in candy store. It's no wonder you got separated! And I'll bet you're completely out of ammunition...low on magical power too! "

"Eh..."

I thought to myself.

"Eh...?"

Don turned to face me, her same nonchalance to my utter shock.

"I told you I'd escort your back safely."

"But...out of ammunition? The entire time!"

As always, Don replied straight and directly.

"After finding you like that, I couldn't say anything to put a cloud on that cute face. I had to be the knight in shining armor that saved this damsel in distress."

I quieted down, blushing furiously. How can she say such embarrassing things...with the same expression? Garrison just shook her head, and chuckled to herself, putting aside the lecture for now.

"That's our Don!"

I was still too embarrassed to do anything but look down, blushing. I could see Don firmly grasping my hand. But since I could only look down, I knew I was missing another of her rare and precious smiles.

"People are driven to where they're needed"... That's only the start of it. It was then I started to discover that Don and I both needed each other.

/

**Author's Note**: This is my first fanfiction, and I'd really like to improve. Any critique is extremely welcome, on writing style, pacing, scenario, etc. Thanks!


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